The Compass at the Crossroads: A Tribute To Professor Selwyn Cudjoe at His Retirement Symposium
Every time I'm back on campus, I whisper thanks to the admissions officer who accidentally admitted me to Wellesley. This is a beautiful symposium, and the best part has been seeing the joy on Dr. Cudjoe's face as he reminisces with each of you.
Literary Scholar Dr. Carole Boyce Davies (left) and novelist Margaret Cezair-Thompson joined the festivities to celebrate Dr. Selwyn Cudjoe at his retirement symposium.
This brings me to a brief Cudjoe story that illustrates his role in my life. It's one of my favorites, and I hear it's become legendary among Cudjoe's students. It feels fitting to share the story of my first meeting with him. Picture it: Sicily 1922. That's a bad Golden Girls joke for the younger folks in the room. So, the story actually begins in 1999. Picture it: Wellesley 1999.
If my memory serves, there were 28 Black women in my class, and we were told that only 3 of us were public school graduates. Wellesley was a far cry from my predominantly Black, large co-ed public high school in Memphis, Tennessee.
Self-doubt swirled within, yet 17-year-old me still had the audacity to enroll in an upper-level elective – a night class on African American theater called Black Drama. We studied classics like Amiri Baraka's Dutchman and George Wolfe's The Colored Museum. A lifelong theater kid, I was excited to finally see myself reflected in the literature. But that excitement dimmed when Professor Cudjoe graded our first essays. Dr. Cudjoe emailed me for a meeting about mine.
Nervously, I met him in the library where he questioned me about the essay and my research for 30 minutes. I thought, "An oral defense with each essay? Must be how college works!" At some point, the tense meeting softened into a conversation. I didn't realize until the end that he was trying to see if 17-year-old me actually wrote the essay.
As we closed that first meeting, Professor Cudjoe asked, "Where are you from?"
"Memphis, Tennessee," I replied.
"Where are your people from, girl?"
"A plantation in Sunflower County, Mississippi," I replied naively.
He laughed, shook his head, and said, "I guess the girl from Memphis can write. You write very well, very well girl."
I smiled.
Cathryn Stout as a student (third from right) with Wellesley College alum Hillary Clinton during a campus visit.
Now, you might think I earned an A+ on the essay. But Cudjoe wrote and circled a B on the paper, and slid it across the table.
Well, freshman me was offended, highly offended. But time and our bond have shown me Professor Cudjoe saw my raw talent in that moment and wanted to push me beyond my comfort zone. He's never stopped pushing.
After Wellesley, he followed my journalism career, occasionally reaching out to compliment my articles referenced in the New York Times or Associated Press. And he invited me to share my public scholarship on Critical Race Theory legislation with his students.
When I applied for graduate school, he submitted a recommendation, praising me for "maintaining a desire to be a thinker and careful social commentator, always willing to shine light into the dark places of our society."
And when I entered my doctoral program as the only woman and only person of color in my cohort and went through my PhD program without a single Black professor, he served on my dissertation committee, pushing me as I examined the entangled histories of the Caribbean and the U.S. South.
I think he might have been slightly disappointed when I left academia after my PhD. He is constantly reminding me that the academy needs my "critical intelligence."
In short, Dr. Cudjoe has been more than a professor; he's been my champion and my compass. He's been the guide who has reminded me to reclaim the voice I lost while becoming a spokesperson for others.
I was introduced today as the spokesperson and Chief of Communications for Memphis public schools. I believe my family is watching the livestream. Breaking News: My last day in that position was five days ago. Hi Mom – just joking.
It was a sudden move, but the timing of that move and this event honoring Dr. Cudjoe feels divinely ordered. God knew I needed to be here today, at this crossroads, to stand before this incredible scholar and my compass and champion as I contemplate a new path.
Symposium panelists and Dr. Cudjoe’s forever students Melanie Graves (left), Dr. Crystal Fleming, and Dr. Cathryn Stout.
Picture it: Wellesley 2024. You're in a room full of talented thought leaders, who all commit to continuing Cudjoe's legacy of championing their peers and the next generation. Because we all need a Cudjoe in our life. We all need someone who sees the potential within us, even when we struggle to see it ourselves. Someone who silences our self-doubt with an unexpected and genuine compliment. And someone who probes, praises, promotes, propels, and pushes onto a more purposeful path.
May we all harness this moment, this gathering, and this collective energy to not only find a champion like Cudjoe but also become champions like Dr. Selwyn Reginald Cudjoe.
Dr. Cathryn Stout is a theology student and independent scholar of American cultural studies in Memphis, TN. To invest in her work and studies, visit https://cash.app/$DrCatStout or https://www.paypal.com/paypalme/CathrynStout.